Thursday, December 13, 2012

When life throws you lemons...write a story.

I've been working on an erotic story, Sin with Cuffs. There was no planning prior to the first word, which is pretty much my standard of writing. On occasion I'll jot out an abstract of a plot on whatever material I have available when the thought strikes...pizza box, napkin, my hand. My characters write their own story, always have. From one chapter to the next, it's difficult to map out what's in store. I absolutely love it. Life is full of roller coasters of happiness, doubts, sadness, issues and I call my release "writing therapy." When I'm in a pissed off mood, I write intense. When I'm happy, my characters seem a bit more jovial also. A few chapters back I entwined an unexpected murder scene into the story line. Guess what kind of mood I was in at the time? I also absorb everything around me like a sponge. Words people say. Actions. Phrases. Eventually all of that absorption needs to be dumped and you know where it goes? Exactly...it's butter for the story. I realize some people wonder if they'll end up between the covers of one of my books. It's possible, but you'll never know for sure. I'd never give enough information away that anyone could pinpoint if they are the murder suspect, the victim, the bimbo, the tramp, the idiot, the psycho, the clever fixer-upper, the bestie...and so on. You get my drift. Today's book on spotlight is: Second Chance Cowboy. There are a few evil characters who possibly were inspired by real people. I'll never tell... Check it out :)http://lyricalpress.com/?s=second+chance+cowboy

Second Chance Cowboy

by Rhonda Lee Carver

Digital Edition $0.99

ISBN: 9781616502058

A tumble down the stairs lands Carly back in the arms of her ex-husband.

After the loss of a child tears her marriage apart, Carly vows she’ll never speak to her soon-to-be ex-husband Chance again. On the eve of their divorce, however, Carly takes a stroll down memory lane and calls Chance.A passionate one night stand between the two is shattered by cruel light of morning. With reality having set back in, Carly admits to Chance she made a mistake, forcing him to come to grips that there is no hope left for their marriage.

Fate has other plans for them. Carly’s fall down some stairs leaves her with amnesia…but that’s only the start of it.

Can deception bring a second chance at love or will it forever destroy an already broken marriage?

Second Chance Cowboy by Rhonda Lee Carver

Excerpt:

Carly squeezed her hands into fists. “My poor husband. How difficult it is for him to manage his inflated ego and keep his zipper closed.”

“We’re divorced, remember?” His voice reeked of sarcasm.

She groaned in irritation. Her pulse pounded in her ears like the beating of a drum. Her claws were showing.

Chance didn’t blink an eye as he gazed at her across the room. “Honey, I can keep my pants zipped just fine. Problem is, you can’t keep your fingers off my zipper.”

Carly’s palm itched to slap him. “We live in a small town, Chance. How do you think it’s possible we haven’t run into each other more than three times in the last two years?” She cocked her chin. “Let me fill you in. I’ve done everything in my power to keep from bumping into you. Do you realize how difficult it is to plan my schedule weeks in advance so I don’t have to see you? Is that a description of a woman who can’t keep her fingers off your zipper?”

“No, more like a woman who’s afraid she’ll forget what screwed up our marriage in the first place, realize she’s made a huge mistake and get her ass back home.”

“Humph, fat chance that’ll ever happen.” She fumbled with the sheet in irritation and gave her hair a toss over one shoulder.

Damn, he did have a point, although she’d never admit it to him.

“Yeah, right, Carly, because you can’t ever forgive and forget, can you? You think you’re the only one who has lost, don’t you?” His eyes became steely pools of green. His voice turned low and controlled. “I lost Devon, too. He was my son–our son. How long are you going to keep blaming me for his death?”

“We do?” His bitter laugh split the air with its razor-sharp intensity. “I know you want to hold on to the belief that I am the bad guy who drove you away, but isn’t it time you took half the responsibility for the failure of our marriage?” A trace of compassion softened his expression. He tugged on his shirt and finger-combed his hair.

“It wasn’t my fault you cheated.” Once she said it, she wanted to yank the words back. Too late, just like their relationship.

“You’re a broken record, sweetheart. It’s not worth denying the accusation any longer. Maybe eventually you’ll believe your words and feel justified in leaving. Devon died, Carly. He’s gone and we can’t change the truth. One of us needed to make the decision to let him go and I made it. I held out hope you’d eventually find a sliver of forgiveness in your cold heart. I guess I was wrong.”<

The old wound broke open and her lungs emptied of oxygen. She wanted to lash out at him, tell him to go to hell, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. When I get back I want you gone.”

“Carly, you’ve become an expert at sucking all the joy out of your life and pushing away anyone who reaches out to you. You’re living in a self-made prison, founded on guilt and pain, and there is no key to unlock the cell door.”